of the
Peruvians that his acquaintance with the Senhor Marques would be a
sufficient passport, we proceeded.

Upon passing his mansion, and sending up our cards, learned from a
Coolie of the absence of its master, and entered unhesitatingly upon his
grounds. Descending a few steps we came to a splendid aviary placed in
the centre of the avenue. It was about fifteen feet in diameter and
twenty in height, and contained quite a variety of beautiful birds.

The grounds are very extensive, covering entirely one of the hills upon
which Macao is built, and are well laid out in broad smooth avenues
fringed with rare trees and shrubs, but

"Each walk was green as is the mantled pool
For want of human travel."

After walking some distance, had to ascend a path, which leading along
a dividing wall, brought us over the roofs of the Chinese houses in
the town below, and reminded us of the position of "Le diable boiteux"
of Le Sage, although I doubted if we could have gained as much
information as that personage did, had we possessed his powers. From
this part of the garden is a fine view of the inner harbor and the
Praya Manduco. Still ascending, upon the highest point found Camoen's
grotto. It had originally been an arched rock, but part of the arch
giving way, has been walled into a square enclosure, in which a
pedestal of corresponding proportions has been placed which sustains a
bust of the great Portuguese poet. Upon tablets set in the four sides
of the pedestal are inscribed appropriate verses from his poem--the
Lusiad; whilst in another place upon a stone set in the rock, is an
epitaph in the French language, but the most appropriate sentiment was
expressed in this couplet pencilled on the side of the grotto:

"Sad poet! 'twas thy fate, alas, to be
Not less the child of fame than misery."

Another poet degenerated into doggerel, and desecrated the spot by the
following impromptu, which, as he had the delicacy not to scribble on
Camoen's Cave, I transcribe for his benefit.

"Oh, clear Camoens! what a time you had
Bounding 'the Cape' to write the Lusiad:
But you got fame, and I should have some too,
For didn't I come round the Cape as well as you?
So, if you now in glowing numbers shine,
Did I not _right_ (?) when twice I've crossed the Line?
But keep your laurels, poet, any how
Your song is sad--'twas _written at Macao_."

The spot was well chosen for meditation, and